Chocolate Factory
by KatrinaKaiba
Summary: Summary inside........
1. Information

In Chocolate...Why Not?

Information

Title: In Chocolate...Why Not?

Author: Tara L. Gleason

Summary: Erin McKinley, Charlie Bucket's cousin from her mother's side, has experience a great turmoil in her family, and finds herself stranded with no where to go, and ultimately an orphan on the brink of total breakdown. She moves in with the Buckets, and everything is calm for a while...But what will happen when she meets Charlie's business partner?

Disclaimer: (_ I am only writing this once since I find it completely pointless, and in addition, to be a total waste of time, having to put this up every chapter. So here it is, your only chance to see it, and the only thing keeping me from being sued.)_

**I do not own anything that even remotely coincides with the movie, novel, or any other thing that can be related, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I do not own any of the characters, except Erin McKinley (and I don't even think I own that considering it is based on a real person), and the scenarios involving these characters that I don't own, and the one that I do.**

_This is also another warning, for anyone that stuck around to actual view this boring, but necessary piece of information. This story may be change to M after the course of the story. I may decided to leave certain parts out, but I will warn you before the chapter if it shall become necessary to invoke a warning. If that made no sense to you, don't worry about it til the time comes. But as always I ask that my readers please review as it keeps my spirits up about the story. _


	2. Devoid of All Feeling

**_In Chocolate...Why Not?_**

**_Ch. 1 Devoid Of All Feeling_**

In a small town, one that was devoid of all signs of existence, far far away, a young girl of 18 stood (well she would sit but the bench had not been submerged and slanted halfway through the ground and was an ecosystem for many creatures that she really didn't want to become acquainted with), at a desert bus top, waiting for a rarely occurring bus to get away from this lifeless and barren town.

She stood next to the once rust free, easily legible, bus sign. Its pole molded into somewhat of a slanted leaning Tower of Pisa, and its presence loomed over her like a dark spirit, with its crude indents from once reckless drivers, and made her shy away a little from its threatening force. She felt like she was being crammed into a small space, despite the much airy atmosphere around her. Maybe it was more like she felt the stupid thing was gonna give way at any moment and crush her.

Now thinking on that notion, that didn't sound like such a bad gig. Now that she thought hard about it...maybe a short reprieve even.

Don't judge her so soon folks. She didn't always have such a pessimistic condescending view on things. Oh no. In fact she was once very enthusiastic about life, optimistic even. But that was before she knew that horrible things existed in the world. Before she knew that horrible things happened to people. Before she knew they could happen...to her.

She grew up like all kids do...loving doting parents, plenty of friends, joyful summer and autum days spent comtemplating only what kids should..._whats for dinner? When is sarah coming, I wonder? Did daddy bring home that doll I wanted, and like her promised?_

Simple things to think about, never really complicated.

Same applied as she began her descent toward adulthood. Except she was given a lot more freedom that she was give originally. But she wasn't a snobbish child, like most of those who would act if they had been catered and waited on their entire lives. No, she was very sweet and humble. Very grateful and kind. She would always share her wealth, or what was termed that way, with those that deserved it more than she did. She was the perfect child, or so the ladies that once attended Church told her.

_Where did this child come from? one would say_

Some believed she was a little piece of a star. Cut out, and landed on the beloved grace of her cherished parents, who nurtured the little piece of sunshine into what she had became in the eyes of everyone around her.

A star...

Now as she stood lonely and deserted on that once often traveled, but now unappreciated wasteland, she couldn't help but feel like that shimmering glow...that twinkle in her appearance and presence, just seemed to have slowly faded, and like a star at the end of its life...seemed to not have even existed at all.

There was an accident. The town wasn't always like that.

Vivid color as if picked from the most beauteous flowers splashed is conspicuous nature, everywhere in sight. The shops were always filled with joy and friendly faces. The homes light with candles and a sort of light that was held only for when all persons in the house were present...a pleasant warmth basking over those nestled safely there.

But then...one day.

The colors faded.

The shops were barren and left with an eerie sort of compliance. As if, the people have left on their own free will.

The homes empty and devoid of all warmth. The innards striped to the bone of the memories and lifetimes that had taken part in the family 's growth.

Everything had stopped...

Time stopped...

That's what happens when a natural disaster hits...

You can't ward off a disease you can't detect or see.

And how she survived was a mystery to her.

But now all she seemed to herself was an enigma.

Even to herself.

She remembered vividly that morning she woke up...the bodies lying motionless...peaceful even.

As if they were just in a deep slumber, and were to wake up if only prodded and bothered enough.

Well she had prodded and bothered, but as fate would have it, they were meant to sleep.

She alone survived.

A scary thing to hold in the void of one's mind.

To be alone.

Up til that moment she had never even known what alone felt like. But know that she did, she was more alarmed by it then anything else in the world.

To know you're alone is to accept that no one can help you. That there would be no one to hold you when you cried, talk to you when you needed to be consoled, to catch you when you fell...

To hear you when you screamed.

She owed it to them to give them a proper burial.

999 friends, parents, lovers, fighters, dreamers, all went into the ground one day.

1 was all alone.

The headlight shining from a steel rodded, chipped exterior, red lined bus, came pulling in like a beacon of hope for Erin McKinley, and with a final glance back, at her once vibrant life, torn at the seems by an immortal adversary, she climbed on the bus, threw in her change, and sat in the back, of the vacated bus.

A new future for her...full of opportunities and new portals to explore...

And all she could think to herself was...

_I hate buses._


	3. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

**_Ch. 2 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_**

When Charlie was a younger boy, he was just as normal as any other kid on the block, that lived in any normal town, that went to any normal school, and had normal parents that went to normal jobs and worked normal hours and had normal pay. Yes...when he was younger everything was normal.

But now...well, nothing was ever normal if you had a business partner like Willy Wonka.

Willy Wonka...the famous chocolatier

In Charlie's wildest dreams, and he had them quite often, he would never have been able to imagine, waking up in a quilted feathered bed, relishing in the fact that he had no longer had an open roof welcoming the snow and rain, or any other forms of weather that delighted in wrecking torture on his innocent sleeping form, and knowing instead that he had another eventful day, devoid of homework, cabbage soup, and freezing weather to look forward to.

Unlike most children his age, Charlie Bucket had an entire chocolate factory in which he would inherit by acquaintance from the candy man himself. He still remembered vividly that day when the eccentric Willy Wonka flew downinto hisroof through his propane clear, head dented, glass elevator that went every which way imaginable, and came with a deal. He had declined at first, but with an ounce of luck, and a little father warming love, Wonka was convinced to allow Charlie's family to move into the chocolate factory, complimented with their own home in the heart of the factory. _The Chocolate Room._

Charlie clambered out of bed, stretching out his aching joints from the usual casualties acquainted with slumber, and began dressing, when suddenly, a loud clear, maybe even robotic voice, began booming all around him, reverberating off the marble walls, and impounding loudly into his oversensitive eardrums. He almost, like as human instinct, clamped his hands over his aching ears, but recognizing the voice, he remained still, and leaned toward the din in order to catch the entirety of the phrase.

"_Charlie Bucket, please report to the main entrance immediately. You seem to have, uh" _the monotonic voice paused quickly, but the pause was noticeable, as if he seemed to be glancing down at something," **_a visitor_**."

Charlie's face lit up dramatically. _A visitor...who would need to see me?_

Charlie struggling into his pants, jumping haphazardly into his shoe, before realizing it was the right foot that he was pushing harshly into his left shoe. Finally dressed, and highly anticipating his visitor, Charlie rushed down the rickety spiral staircase, kissed his family goodbye, out of the house, and ambling quickly down the edible grass toward the velvet carpeted elongated hallway. Pulling aside the wide caged steel doors, he found...

Ten Minutes Earlier

Erin had spoken into an intercom thingie that made her jump back when a booming, resembling feminine toned, but somewhat clearly masculine, had told her, "Good Morning starshine...the earth says HELLO!" the last he emphasized loudly, and made her jump back in slight fear. Not fear of the man, just more of the unknown. She stated she was a relative of Charlie's and would like to be permitted to see him.

"_PLEASE ENTER."_

The metallic prison resembling bars swung slowly open, enlarging a grand courtyard, that was splintered into a thousand slices, that could only be viewed between two bars, layered in snow like a blanket. She looked up, and her breath was taken away by the majestic force that seemed to punch the air out of her lungs.

Three torrential cylinder chimneys sat on top of the tall edifice (builded upon each other like a bunch of building blocks) issuing smoke like devilish serpents floating in the air. It was beautiful...not a place she would take pleasure in living but it couldn't be denied, that although in a more technological metallic, 'keep out' facade, that it was beautiful.

Climbing up the three steps, she awaited anxiously, until the large steel doors opened.

Normal Time

"Charlie!" screamed delightfully the voice of a slight age older than him, and of course resembling the opposite sex.

He turned and saw a face he hadn't seen in, the least, five years. She had certainly changed quite a bit; time seemed to do that to a person.

Erin had grown quite a bit; actually a lot, since he distinctly remembered her only towering over him slightly . Well she certainly towered over him alright; she appeared more like a painted up skyscraper, she was so tall. She had lost what was known by most teenagers as water weight or the more slanged up term, 'baby fat,' and she looked great. Her face only aged in what seemed as experienced, and was elongated and sharpened at places like her cheekbones, and neck. The same doe colored hair, and sharp bright eyes, hidden behind despicable glasses that he had known that she loathed entirely, but he entire sight dependency weighed heavily upon them.

"Erin!" he yelled back, despite the fact that they were two feet away from each other. They embraced in a family coincided hug, their arms clinging tightly behind each others waists, and it seemed, either one in fact, were trying to suffocate the other. Most bets, of course, would be on Erin, due to the height and more physical strength brought along from being more nourished for longer periods of time. And maybe, a big contributor was the fact that she was 18 and he was 12. But whatever the case, they released each other from their holds, not really caring whomever one the lack of breathing competition, and were smiling merrily at each other.

"Oh my gosh, Erin, its been..."

"5 years I know."

"Well, why are you here? Now. Of all places."

And she couldn't even get a word out, seeing that, like most 12 year olds, Charlie was very inquisitive and curious. And that sometimes meant that he would ask more questions then could be possibly answered.

Trying to hush him, she repeated his name over, until, realizing that wasn't causing him to cease, she placed a slender hand over his rapidly moving mouth. Unfortunately his mouth was moving under her restricting hand, and he began breathing heavier, and saliva started to ooze onto her palm. Finally, she had enough sense to bring her hand away, and as she wiped it onto Charlie's sleeve, and before Charlie could gulp down air to resume his interesting, but in time, annoying questions, the voice that Erin had heard over the intercom erupted as if out of nowhere behind them, and both Erin and Charlie turning toward the sound, Erin saw the most interesting looking character she had ever seen in her life.

"Good morning starshine, the earth says hello."

The figure kept walking toward them, before clamping a thin slender hand over Charlie's much lower shoulder, and staring at Erin's blue eyes with rare crystal, lavender ones.

"Hello...little girl."


	4. Mr Enigma

**_Chocolate Factory_**

**_Ch.3 Mr. Enigma_**

"_Hello...little girl."_

She couldn't speak. It was as if her tongue had swallowed itself as she stared at the man (she finally determine the gender that she was clueless about) in front of her. He was definitely one of a kind as she glanced at his entire figure.

His complexion was that of the pale, creamy color that resembles that of either vanilla frosting or when you mix flour and milk together. She had believed for most of her life (til this very moment actually) that she had the palest complexion of the entire human race even though, despite hours and hours (too numerous to count) of possible sun absorption, her skin, unfortunately, seemed to be immune to it. This fellow however, seemed as if he was allergic to the sun, and a simply reflection of his skin by the sun's unmerciful rays could possibly cause a drastic turn on his complexion that might resemble the process of a waxen candle being tortured by a flamed match. It seemed as if he had never seen a single sunny day in his entire life. Whether it was true or not, she guessed she would have to inquire about it.

He wore the oddest combination of garments, which only added to the enigma forming in Erin's mind. On his feet he wore pinpoint tipped, heeled ebony boots, which she only assumed he wore to either make himself feel taller, or perhaps to feel in control since he was in fact taller. He was probably, roughly, 6", a good two inches ahead of her, and that was with the boots. So without them she figured them to be around the same height. He wore tight clinging pants, belted at the hips, that shaped, surprising, well defined muscled, but still lean, legs and calves.

Over that he seemed to be wearing a black turtleneck that wrapped like a an easily removable scarf around his neck, and draping over was a violet trench coat, that looked quite comfortable and warm (which cause Erin to be slightly puzzled seeing as the large room they were in was immensely incubated), and circled down around his knees and billowed behind him as he walked, being to privy to a demonstration when he appeared out of nowhere and walked toward them minutes before.

Her eyes now lingered up his long, defined neck, to his blanch face and noticed, quite pleasantly, that the features she found were utterly delightful. Almost even, scrumptious.

His nose was average in length, in between the line of large and small. Just right. And it even seemed to have a delicate point at the end, that you just felt like tapping. His face was extremely angulate, and it seemed his face was all hollows and shadows. It wasn't the cliche picture of a starved person, no, not at all. It was more the kind of hand-sculpted masterpiece in a different type of wrapping, as it were, as she passed over his cheekbones that were unusually high in his face and prominent. Slowly traveling up she noticed brown hair with the slightest tint of red (kind of like a mild auburn) shining under the dim light, as if he took much care in its appearance. The ensemble was completed by a dusky top hat that resemble one from the Fred Astaire era, and her eyes weave over the stitching of lavender thread.

"Who are you?" the peculiar man asked, his voice laced with what seemed to be an over exaggerated curiosity, as well as a hint of aggitation.

Her blue eyes traveled toward his inquisitive gaze, and as she bore back into them, she couldn't help but ponder about how they were such a delicate shade of lavender. She had never seen eyes like that before...

"Ahem." he coughed slightly, causing Erin's focus to be once again, on the interesting man in front of her. She felt a blush creep onto he cheeks and wondered lightly if he had noticed her staring.

Had she been staring long? Did he notice? Did he...

"I asked what your name is...why does every single person in the gosh darn world have to be so rude as to not answering one simple question, especially since it's the first one that pops into your head as soon as you meet someone. Everybody knows that." He said in a mocking tone, as if she was the most ignorant creatures to have stepped through the door.

"It's Erin," she held out her hand, "Erin McKinley."

He made a gesture to take her hand, his long fingers stretching out slightly, causing the purple dentist type gloves to groan in protest, but, as if not trusting her hand, he curled his hand back into a fist and simply stared at hers until it fell limp at her side, admitting defeat.

"Fine, don't shake my hand. But most people shake hands when they meet someone for the first time. It's called being polite. Everybody knows that." She said staring haughtily into his eyes, waiting for her blatant jest to sink in.

He coughed slightly, and smiled back at her comment, but no friendless shined through.

"Wouldn't want to get my hands, _I mean, your_ hands dirty. See, making chocolate...couldn't be messy."

"Oh I understand, must be a major dilemma shaking hands. With the dirty gloves on and all."

"Exactly." he said nodding his head in agreement, not really registering that she had basically told him he was just being rude and all he had to do was take the stupid gloves off, but he didn't care. All he cared about was why she was in his chocolate factory.

He opened his mouth to ask that very same question, but she beat him to the punch.

"Who are you?"

"Me?"

"Yes you, or are there more squeaky voiced, violet gloved, gangly men like you running around in here?"

"First of all I don't run...I stroll."

She rolled her eyes at the comment.

"Two...I am not gangly, just lacking meat."

"And three..." he thought for a moment, and then shifting his head slightly to the side, he laughed a quick note before saying, "ha, guess there was no three."

"Yeah whatever, who are you again?"

"I am...Willy Wonka." He said dramatically slowly emphasizing each word, making sure she had every syllable into her tiny head. After all he was famous.

"Who?"

His mouth sprang open slightly and his tinted eyes boggled out.

"You mean," he said gazing side to side, "you've never heard of me?"

"Nope, can't say that I have. Are you famous or something?"

Glancing at Charlie, his smile strained, he grasped the young boy's shoulder tightly and said in a no nonsense tone (if that was possible) and said, "Charlie, a moment please. Will only take a second little girl. You can wait that long can't you?"

"I guess so." She said, gritting her teeth tightly, disliking this man intensely more with each passing moment. If he called her 'little girl' one more time.

"Oh good." He said, staring at her strangely, like he'd never seen such a person before, and then led Charlie a few good feet away out of Erin's earshot.

"What is that?"

"Don't you mean whom?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, the point is why is that, I mean why is _she_ in my factory?"

Charlie explained what Erin had said moments before Mr. Wonka arrived, and at the end of the telling, Mr. Wonka almost seemed a little sympathetic.

" Oh I see...wow."

"Yes, so I was wondering, Mr. Wonka, if she could perhaps, um, stay here with us..."

"Wait, what, whoa, Charlie are you kidding me? I mean she is like the devil's spawn in a pleasant colorful Caramel Scrumptious Delight wrapper. She can't stay her, and that's final."

"Why not? She will be in one of the thousand rooms that you never go in, or even know exists."

"That's poppycock...preposterous...and not to mention insane." he added, accentuating the last word pointedly with his gloved forefinger.

"Please Mr. Wonka." Charlie pleaded, using those puppy eyes that no adult, even one of a slightly unnerved mind, could protest against,

Mr. Wonka, trying to look away from the hard to ignore display in front of him, looked with a painful grimace back at Erin who was rocking back on her heels and staring at the immensely wide spacing of the metallic ceiling. He repeatedly glanced back and forth from the puppy dog to the spawn, as if he were watching a tennis match.

Finally he sighed dramatically, and slapping his hands loudly against his thighs he said quietly. "Fine."

And stomping off like a petulant child, he made his way back toward his clear glass elevator. He stopped suddenly, pulled out what appeared to be a car alarm device, pressed it, and smiled slightly as the elevator lit up twice, indicating its position, ans ensuring that he could safely get inside without risking injury to his head.

And with that he was zinging off into another room in the factory, which was, he hoped, far, far away from where Ms. Erin McKinley was making her temporary home.

**_A/N I didnt expect having this many reviews already. Go you wonderful reviewers. I dont think I did a very good job writing up Wonka's character so far. Would love to hear all your comments on it. Most appreciated. R&R savvy?_**


	5. CURIOUSITY KILLED THE CAT

Curiosity Killed The Cat

Erin had been arranged into her room, eaten, and even decided to read a book, before she came to unavoidable conclusion that she was bored. A sick thought to think about when one just arrives in a new place, and with that thought in mind, she jumped off her lavishly decorated bed, wrinkling the newly pressed lavender quilt, and causing the headboard to slightly bang into the opposing mauve wall behind her, she grabbed haphazardly for her shoes , slipped into them, and decided this was a day that had called her for curiosity. Not the kind that killed the cat, but a more mild one that involved perhaps antagonizing Mr. Willy Wonka.

She knew he had disliked her the moment he had said 'little girl.' And that was all it took for her to dislike him. What was he was a child fanatic? Or did he simply believe he was the only person in the entire word that was an adult? Whatever the case was inside his slightly altered top hat covered head, he was simply an annoyance to her, and she was even more simply going to avoid being in his presence. Cause she was sure if she heard the words 'little girl' referring to her one more time...she was going to snap like a twig when one steps on it in stiletto heels.

She walked down a red carpeted hallway, glancing at the heavily colored walls, and paused to take a through scan.

The walls were an assortment of colors -red, orange, purple, yellow, basically anyone you saw fit in your imagination, sure enough there it was- all aligned cursory into an miscellany of shapes. Circles, triangles, squares, or any made up shape that simple fit. It was, to Erin, like autumn. When the leaves simply fell due to untimely justice on the oncoming days of winter, and as the leaves fell, they carried a sort of, misunderstood grace as they spiraled elegantly to the ground; a whirl of color, a blur of shapes. She wondered what Mr. Wonka's motive was for these walls and this carpet, for now she continued her exploration elsewhere's. For someone she claimed to despise, he could not be denied that he had a _interesting _taste in what some would call, 'a load of things mushed together,' or even more simply, 'shity but effective.'

Reaching the end of the abnormally long hallway, she paused before the wall because it seemed to missing something, but she was sure, when she was on the other side of the hallway, there was one in attendance.

_The door_.

Where did the door go?

A door could not simply just disappear into thin air. Well maybe it could as she realized whose factory she was standing in.

Just then, she felt a slight tug in the knee region of her cargo pants, and she looked down and saw a tiny, majorly tanned, 6 inch figure.

_What were those things he called them again? Loompa Opo. No Oompo Lop. No...What was it? Oh yes, Oompa Loompa. _

"You're an Oompa Loompa aren't you.' she said as a statement than as a question, because she was pretty sure now that this what it was called.

He didn't respond to her, he merely pointed at her leg. She looked down at her leg, completely baffled as to what he was inquiring or pointing out to her.

_Is my pants dirty? What is he needing, cause my pants are just what they are, pants._

Realizing that she wasn't getting what he was showing her, he got down on the floor-which wasn't that far for him to go- and crawled in-between the space of her legs, and when one sees this happening, one tends to have a feeling of , "oh dear god, why is said person doing said thing.'

"Woah! Where-What?"

And then suddenly...he disappeared.

She peered down under her legs, and noticed how he had made his grand escape so to say. Underneath, or behind her if she looked down, was a steel pressed door with ridges pressed into the door. There was no handle, so she assumed one must push the door in. Glancing behind her and making sure no one was around to catch her, in case what she was doing was considered a 'no, no'. Confirming that there was no one around or going to suddenly pop up -she hoped- she crouched down on her knees and pushed the small door with one hand and held her breath.

And what awaited her eyes was definitely something that she would never had expected, despite the fact that she knew of the place she was residing in.

The room seemed like a smaller scaled jungle. Along the ground was the greenest blades of grass she had ever seen in her entire life, and crawling inside she realized that room had suddenly been altered. She could stand.

There seemed to be a stone path meant for those visiting to follow, and doing so, she walked and stared in awe, her eyes glazed in fancy.

Trees of gummy bars, licorice strings, and candy apples, hung gaily on the seemingly real branches. Mushrooms filled with some type of fluffing that is constituted in cool whip. Any type of candy that has been invented was there before her eyes, and she couldn't help but grin foolishly.

She plucked a candy apple from the tree and bit into it. The bittersweet tang that accompanies the freshness of an apple and the sweet concoction that was coated pleasantly over its contours flooded her mouth and she began greedily delving into the apple, not really caring who was there to see her.

She turned slightly and what she saw made her mouth hang open in wonder and the half devoured apple to fall loudly from her hand into the grass below.

It was a giant chocolate waterfall.

A chocolate waterfall.

A chocolate waterfall?

How the hell did this wacko get a chocolate waterfall into his factory?

Stepping down the stepped path toward the falls, she noticed how creamy the river looked, and how the foam that was produced was like the milk bubbled one blows through a straw of an infamous chocolate milk. Giant chunks fell from the copycat drop into the foam, causing it to be disturbed, then grow slightly.

Edging closer she watched in fascination at the way the chocolate moved like a natural river, rapid even graced its surface as it passed down into a tunnel she noticed at the far right side of the room.

_I wonder where that goes..._

And as she looked for some sort of device that would be adorned for going into the tunnel, a boat maybe, she felt a hand tap her shoulder.

"What ya looking at?"

The first instinct when someone comes up behind you, unexpectedly, is genuinely to jump in surprise. And that was what Erin did, but instead of jumping in the air and landing on solid ground, she didn't feel that precious contact of earth as she flew down into the chocolate depths that she had been moments before admiring so intently.

"Oh no not again." said a slightly feminine high-pitched voice, as his lavender glove curled and protested into a fist, and his lavender eyes began searching wildly the umber concoction below him, now disturbed by a wonder-stricken young woman.

She hadn't surface and that disturbed him. The Ooompa Loompas didn't sing a song for her, so her fate hadn't been determined for downfall... at least not yet.

Sighing exaggeratedly to himself he stripped out of his long maroon trench coat, lavender sunglasses, black leather boots, and his black ,purple ribbon ,top hat, and taking one more glance into the murky depths, he dove in.

Erin couldn't see a thing and the fact that her glasses were also clouded didn't help. She was swimming fanatically trying to see through the sludge that she had just fallen into. It wasn't like the ocean, where despite some discoloration, u could tell where the surface was. No light seemed to ebb its way to where she was now drowning and she couldn't help but panic. It is said that in a troubling situation, you should never panic. But she determined early on, that if that spokesperson was in the very situation she was right now, they would be flipping the fuck out.

He searched wildly, waving his arms in fervent hope in finding some sign or touch of the young woman. What, couldn't she swim. Her legs were certainly long enough he noticed, almost like swimmer's legs.

Finally he grazed something, a slight brush through the thick soup. He retraced back slightly, waving his arms back frantically, and reaching.

He grasped what he assumed was her, and kicked fiercely toward the surface because the extra weight was dragging him dreadfully more toward the bottom.

Rushing and pushing, trying viciously to reach air, his lungs began burning and lusting for precious oxygen, he could only imagine how she was feeling, if this was indeed her.

Finally he broke the surface, gulping down the precious amounts of air that pressed against his chambers, like giving water to a man in the desert.

Pulling what he now determined as the little girl, he used all his strength to getting her onto the edible grass. After a few attempts he managed to get her onto the bank, and taking a few deep breaths he was able to pull himself up as well. His muscles ached unpleasantly from his exertion but he crawled over to where the motionless woman laid.

He dipped his head low to her mouth but heard no sound or breath upon his ear. He was surprised that he was able to remember what he had been taught in his school days about CRP, or CFR, or whatever it was called. It didn't really matter what it was called as long he was able to help her start breathing. Placing his hands over what he believed would be her heart, he pressed down ten times, pushing slightly against her with the palm of his right hand with his left over it.

Then reaching for her nose he went to bend over to breathe air into her, when suddenly her chest started violently shaking and then into his close face, she coughed up all the river that had invaded her lungs.

Sputtering backwards he began fervently wiping his face, as she turned to the side, curled into a ball, hostilely coughing and sputtering, her face becoming red from the exertion.

Still breathing heavy, he waited for the spasms to desist, pushing his dripping hair away from his eyes and wiping his face clear of chocolate, or at least attempting.

Trying to sit up, Erin was confused by the presence in front of her. She expected it to be Mr. Wonka, ready to laugh at her. But it didn't even look remotely like him, or at least no in the way she had previously seen.

His dark hair was pushed back, with a few strands falling down his tanned face with splotched white peeking through. He wore a black tee shirt with matching black pants that clung to him now due to his impromptu swim, and it shaped his muscled frame delightfully. Staring now, the only way she could tell that it was really him, was the uniquely colored lavender eyes staring bewildered at her in silent confidence.

"Are you ok?' and then it was him again, that slightly high-pitched voice revealed that he was surely who she was believing he was.

"Yes."

"Well that's just dandy, but now look at my river." He jumped up spastically and stared angrily into his river.

She glanced with him, and discovered she didn't see anything that he was seeing because she just noticed small ripples from what she assumed from frantic swimming.

"Um..What's wrong with it?'

"What's wrong with it? WHAT'S WRONG WITH IT! I'LL TELL YOU 'WHAT'S

WRONG WITH IT! NOW IT'S CONTAMINATED, AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" He yelled furiously, his eyes blazing with passion.

Not trusting her voice she shook her head in answer.

"IT'S RUINED! R-U-I-N-E-D! NO ONE IS GOING TO WANT EAT THIS! THIS RIVER SEND CHOCOLATE TO THE **ENTIRE** FACTORY! NOW I HAVE TO SHUT OFF ALL THE MACHINES AND HAVE THE OOMPA LOOMPA CLEAN IT! WELL,' he bellowed in his pitch which would have been hilarious if he hadn't been serious, picking up his clothes before pointing a long finger in her direction, "IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. FROM NOW ON, JUST STAY AWAY FROM ANYTHING THAT LOOKS INTERESTING. NO SMELLING, NO TASTING, NO TOUCHING."

And then he stormed off in his fury and she sat there in depressed silence, til he turned back at her while staring from the iron door.

"AND THAT MEAN ANYTHING!'

She cringed when she heard the sound of the door, and she began to think humorlessly to herself that thankfully she wasn't a dead cat.

Just a soaked one.


	6. Curiousity Killed the Cat Part 2

_**Charlie and the Chocolate Factory**_

_Ch. 5 Curiosity Killed the Cat_

Sure she knew that she should listen Mr. Willy Wonka and all his pointless rules. After all it was his factory, and he had a right to tell her that she was prohibited from any part of the factory that he designated from her. But he had another thing coming if he thought that just because he said it so, that meant it was done.

So as soon as she had gotten cleaned off from her chocolate escapade, she once again, ventured forth into the depths of this highly surprising chocolate factory, making wary of the fact that she did not take her original path that she took before. She sincerely hoped she did not encounter Mr. Wonka again; I think that a chocolate swim was enough trauma for one day.

Closing her door gently, she crept toward the end of the hallway. Suddenly she stopped walking. Well actually it was more like her walking was 'stopped' as her head collided sharply with some translucent object, and her gangly body crumpled as her knees buckled from the force. She stared up into the object that was once unseeable, and then she noticed sharp edges that resembled a box like structure that reached as long as the ceiling.

She slowly got up, using her long arms as leverage against the stubborn floor and perhaps the force of gravity holding her down, which at the moment seemed thoroughly imposing. Rubbing her head slightly to try and ease the internal sting, she walked cautiously toward, what could be only called, the mystical thing.

It appeared to be...a glass elevator. She pushed the metallic button on the wall next to her that was labeled 'anywhere'. Suddenly the doors sprung open, and she stepped inside, and jumped slightly at the loud echo that rang sharply in her ears as the door closed with a slam behind her.

_Now...which button to pick...?_

There were so many buttons to choose from. Some random; some mind boggling; and some that had her wondering why would anyone need a room for such nonsense.

And as she thought this she noticed one button in particular that caught her immediate attention.

To the left of a button that stated 'Charlie Bucket and Family Room', was a large purple button that had the shape of a whirlwind, or the shape that was once assembled during a TV commercial representing twizzlers (the one where the kid is making a bulls-eye on the bald man's head).There were no words surrounding it; as if the person was trying to make it as obvious as it was. That maybe if the person did not see what the room was for, that they would never think or at least be genuinely curious as to what that room concealed.

A malicious grin formed on Erin's thin pink lips and she bit the lower one in apprehension. _Mr. Wonka doesn't know me very well, now does he?_

And with a slight laugh of excitement, she pressed the button. She was ready for some type of motion to take place, which is usually common among those taking a fancy of going in an elevator. However, what she didn't anticipate was the sudden kick in the stomach and heart wrenching force that sent her sprawled out on the bottom of the elevator's glass floor.

She attempted to get up, her legs tensing with the strong pull of her body in one central direction. And suddenly, as if realizing what she was doing, the elevator astutely changed direction, causing her back to slam into the wall directly to the left of her.

_This elevator had a mind of its own . . . _Erin thought horrifically, and again, as if sensing her fear, the elevator came to an abrupt stop, and the doors opened. If someone were to pass at this opportune moment, before them would lay, literally, a very comical scene of extremely long limbs entangled like after a game of twister and a very moused cat.

Trying to gain back some sort of dignity, she clambered up off the floor from her awkward positioning, and brushing off her pants and fixing the bun that had unraveled from her journey, she noticed a great edifice in her presence. Well actually just a door, but a majestic door at that.

It was adorned with what appeared to be the finest gold filigree, outlining the edges of the door and forming a shape similar, if not identical, to the very symbol that was on the elevator button.

It was too enticing to pass up. And ignoring all reasoning that she had been warned about earlier that day, she walked up to the door, twisted and pulled the gold handle toward herself, and taking a quick predatory glance behind her, she ventured forth into a room, she was surely not allowed to pursue.


	7. A Whirl Of Colors For A Setting Sun

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Ch. 6 A Whirl Of Colors For A Setting Sun

Her hand lingered on the knob; there was no other appropriate place for it. Her feet remained parallel to her shoulders and remained motionless as well, for their was no place for them either. She, over all, physically, remained stationary. But her mind was still continually processing this newfound discovery, as if trying to either comprehend what was in front of her, or to forevermore etch it into her memory, for what she was seeing was truly a remarkable sight.

The door, first of all, had probably given up all hope or chance on Erin closing the door herself, so in retaliation, it closed quietly, almost imperceptibly, behind her. The second thing she noticed was the strange, perhaps even exotic, formation and architecture of the room. Mr. Wonka was truly defying the laws of gravity when he was designing the blue prints for this room. The dark violet walls were neither straight, nor curvy; more like huge arcs that met in the center of the room, creating a huge awning that held in the very middle of the vertex where all the walls met, hung a purple hued crystalline chandelier; its fragmental light waves cascading over the walls and shining to reveal other odds and ends.

In the far extreme of the room was a deep mahogany colored desk, with many etches of purple in the lining. On the desk, as Erin crept closer were many papers, some containing numbers and figures, and others containing drawings, some seeming to depict possible or already developed

projects and/or creations of Mr. Wonka's and her cousin Charlie.

She turned to the left and saw what she assumed was Mr. Wonka's bed. It seemed to be made of pure purple silk, and as she ran a hand over the material, her senses confirmed the notion. It seemed to be fit for a king, which would be appropriate seeing as how he seemed to strut around this factory as if he was a king and this was his, well to be frank, oddly decorated palace.

Sighing in slight frustration due to early stinginess and encounters, she removed her hand from his bed and saw the most beautiful view she could have ever seen and never knew if she would ever see again.

The sun was setting behind its blanket of the horizon, indicating that she was unaware of what time it was really was. Time sure did pass when you were creating mischief. She could see for miles. Miles of royal purple and blue, orange and red, streaked and blended perfectly together in a mix only fit for the most unique and creative, for they were the only ones able to perceive and appreciate. The town below her was small, like a toddler's toys, and she watched as those who had passed the day out in the busy streets, make their way to the safe, warm confines of their home.

Oh how she missed the feeling of being appreciated, the feeling of being warm, safe. She wished she could envelop herself in those majestic colors, feel the wind over her body like a bird does and know that she was just as beautiful as the sky that graces her wings...

The first glowing stars were already shining in the clear brisk night sky; all the people who were just in her line of vision had vanished just like the setting sun had behind a whirl of colors. She too, decided that it would be the opportune moment in which she should leave when, suddenly, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and a delight smell of chocolate reach her scent.

"Beautiful view isn't it...Mhmm yes it is, I imagine you get the same delight out on your own balcony. My biggest concern right now, is why you chose mine?"

Hey, not all sneaks have a clear record. Every once in a while, twice in Erin's case, they get caught.


End file.
